


Surfas, Rega, Love

by ParagonDeLurid



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Forbidden Love, Language Barrier, Night Elf, One Shot, Orc, Secret Relationship, horde/alliance relationship, mild violence, some blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-23 21:39:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9679643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ParagonDeLurid/pseuds/ParagonDeLurid
Summary: In the middle of war, two loners gravitate towards each other and, somehow, mercy and honor transform into something more.





	

**Author's Note:**

> *** I am aware night elves are against mating outside their own kind, and that is a big part of why I wrote this,

There has been a war between the Alliance and the Horde for as long as can be remembered, but there was once a time when they did not even know who their enemy was. But in the beginning, how could they have known? What choice did they have?

And as long as there has been a war, there have been the rebels; the ones who's hearts and lives went beyond territory lines. Among those rebels, were two loners whose paths crossed one dark and rainy day.

Elea was a night elf. She was shy, and didn't really like socializing. Elea kept to herself, devoting herself to nature, her studies, and her goddess. She became a priest, and a talented healer. How ironic, the woman whose job required being around people constantly wanted nothing more than to be alone.

Ormar was on an entirely different spectrum. He was an orc. A warrior, at that. He'd been training to serve his Warchief and clan since he was young. Ormar didn't like all the pressure, though, and longed for freedom of that responsibility. Kill the humans, take the Alliance territory. Ormar just wanted to be peaceful.

The fateful day they crossed paths did not start out peaceful. Elea was in Ashenvale, dashing through the forest. There had been yet another little skirmish of the large war, and Elea was running back home. She had been healing the battle front at large, which wore her out. Thus, she switched out with another healer and was trying to get home quickly.

The woman heard something off in the distance suddenly; a deep groan specifically.

Gripping her staff tightly, she slowly approached, forming a yellow white light orb in her hand.

The groan came from an orc, a large male specifically. He was laying in the grass, dark brown hair sprawled out. Looking oddly pale despite his greyish green skin.

"Bandu thoribas!" Elea shouted in her native tongue – Darnassian. _Prepare to fight_ , she said, specifically.

The orc's eyes flickered open, his brown eyes unreadable and expression tired. He groaned again, trying to shift and turn away. There was thick, green black orc blood on the ground, and a deep cuts on the orc's arm and chest. Elea had a sudden rush of unconditional compassion for this orc, and, without thinking, she slowly moved closer. The yellow white orb was gone from her hand and instead she stretched her arms out and let pale green healing energy flow out of her and into the orc.

The wound on the orc's arm slowly closed, some of the light of awareness coming back into his eyes. He slowly sat up, bowing his head briefly and thumped a fist to his chest.

"Aka'magosh." Said the orc. Elea had a very limited understanding of the orc language, but what she did know told her that it was a form of a thank you.

"Ande'thoras-ethil." She said in Darnassian, nodding. _May your troubles be diminished_. She turned away, prepared to run before the orc could attack her.

The orc grunted before she could go, saying something – presumably. The only thing she caught, as the orc gestured towards himself, was "Ormar."

She had reason to believe that it was his name. Elea nodded, holding her hand, palm up, in front of her chest. "Elea." She replied.

Then she ran.

She healed the enemy, she realized. For that one orc she healed and showed mercy, who knew how many of her people he could kill. Her allegiance was to the Alliance. She should have killed him.

And yet, she had no desire to. That was, ultimately, what changed her fate.

 

A year and a half later, Elea was still in Ashenvale, her home. Now, it was Ormar's home, too.

Now, now, let me explain. The day they met was not the only day they saw each other. Throughout the next few months, fate seemed to draw the two together.

First, while doing some spying on her own, she saw from her view up in a tree, the camp Ormar and his clanmates were staying in. It was hidden, near where Ashenvale ended and the Stonetalon Mountains began. Elea kept it's location to herself, despite her higher conscious telling her she should report it to her commander. Ormar saw her in the trees that day, her slim form crouched on the branches. And, for the same reason Elea didn't say a word about him, he didn't say one of her.

Then, the next time, they were near Darkshore. Elea was alone again, and so was Ormar. It was dusk, and Elea was hunting. When she heard an orc's voice behind her, she readied herself and was about to fling a light orb in that direction. Then, out of the bushes came that familiar man. At the time, it pained her so, but her guard was down as soon as she saw him.

She shut her eyes, clenching her fists. She shouted at him one of the few Orcish words she knew. "Kagh!" She said. It meant run. She wanted to say go away, or leave me alone, but she didn't know how. Run would have to do.

The orc shook his head, grunting and approaching her. She took up an offensive stance, raising the bow she had borrowed from someone in her camp at him.

His hands were up, as though in surrender, as he walked closer. It was almost as though he was saying, "I know you won't hurt me."

Then, gently placing his hand on the weapon, he gently nudged her arm down. Then, as unusual as it may seem, he embraced her.

"Bin mog g'thazag cha." He murmured. And even though Elea didn't understand his language, she knew what he meant. His tone, and stance, told her.

 _I will protect you_.

They saw each other many times after that.

 

There were issues, obviously. Elea was a powerful healer for the night elves, and Ormar was a strong warrior among the orcs. It was often that they saw each other in the battle field, eyes meeting from far away. She was still wary of him. How could she trust an orc?

Ormar, on the other hand, respected Elea a great deal; she healed him, and he couldn't figure out why. It had been one of her people that left him for death, but she didn't. He was in debt to Elea, and protecting was the honorable thing to do.

And he did.

He went as far to slay one of his own kind to protect the night elf healer, though never in sight of any of his clanmates. In order to protect this woman, he had to stay alive. That meant feigning hatred around others.

In private, though, hate was the last thing they felt for each other.

 

Present time, there was still a language barrier between the two, but they were adapting to it. Things were easier, but only slightly.

The two were up in a tree, the night elf nudged between Ormar's legs. It was nighttime; they were watching the sky in peace. Most times, times like this, when they were able to sneak away and spend time together, they would teach each other as many words as the could. Both could speak each other's language very brokenly, and only understand the most basic grammar in it. Most complicated sentences in Darnassian were lost on Ormar, as Orcish was to Elea.

"Shal." Elea murmured, breaking the silence for the first time in a while. She swept her hand through the air, motioning toward the black, twinkling sky. _Night_. Then, she stretched out a finger and pointed to the biggest star, adding, "Kal."

Ormar chuckled behind her, large hand running up and down her arm.

"Rega." He said, replying to her mini lesson with one of his own.

She turned in his arms, a questioning look on her face; she had never heard that one before.

The orc put his hand over his heart, then moved it to rest over Elea's.

"Rega." He repeated.

"Rega." She whispered, saying back what she believed it to mean in her own language, "Surfas?"

Ormar nodded, smiling.

Suddenly, the night elf's arms were around him, her neck resting against his chest. "Kane'thil surfas." She whispered. _I love you_.

"Kane'thil surfas." Ormar repeated, and Elea kissed his cheek.

Surfas.

Rega.

 _Love_.

All because of compassion and mercy. Because love doesn't care about race, or job, or allegiance. No matter how forbidden, people will love on. In the shroud of night, or not.


End file.
